Monday, I got a call from the Jewish Agency.
They said, “Good news, you’ve been approved to make Aliyah!” And so that was it. Perhaps it was a decision I’d already made, but there was my stamp of approval, my final confirmation. I remembered a converation I had had with someone just the other day. Upon finding out I wanted to make Aliyah he asked me why I was moving to Israel? “Just so you know,” he said, “Everyone in Israel will ask why the hell you are there. Be prepared to answer.”  He reminded me of the Aliyah application where I had to list three reasons why I wanted to move to Israel; they gave me only a small line for each reason. The whole ordeal made me begin to question myself. I had originally decided that I wanted to make Aliyah while I was living in Israel, but now that I’m back home in Toronto,  did I need more confimation to soothe any doubts?
It reminded me of what I like to call “the Birthright Syndrome”. I’m sure many readers are familiar with it.  Someone goes on their free 10-day trip to Israel, they see the beauty of the land (and yes, this does exist in Israel but Birthright tends to neglect to add a more colorful picture of Israel; let people figure that out on their own money).  After Birthright, people become so enamored with Israel that when they come home they are convinced that they are going to make Aliyah and join the army. This syndrome subsides within a few days.
I had never counted myself in that category because my visits to Israel have been more extensive, and I lived there for 6 months. Â But did I have the syndrome after all?
I know that I love Israel; this is something I can’t ever deny. I love it on its good days, and although I can get frustrated with many of its problems, I also love it on its bad days. I know that I’m a Zionist–whatever that means–and that I want to support Israel.  I also know, though, that supporting Israel can be done anywhere in the world, and moving to Israel to support it is no longer integral to its survival.  No, I’ve realized that making Aliyah is actually quite selfish. I’m leaving behind family and friends, and 24 years of life I’ve made in Toronto. It’s not easy to see my grandmother’s puppy dog eyes when I tell her I’ve decided to move to Israel. It’s not easy to see my friends slowly pull away from me in realization that I’m not going to be living 5 minutes from them anymore. So I guess for me it’s more than support: I’m moving to Israel because I want to. I’m moving to Israel because I’m in love with the land, the culture, (even that damn sponga) the people, the lifestyle, the religion, the politics (yes, this is possible, even if loving this politics means I love to criticize them), the ideology of the land, the history of the land and its many peoples. I don’t feel passionate about Toronto the way I do about Jerusalem. Perhaps I am a dreamer in my feelings for Israel, but I won’t let my passion run away from me, and this is why I’m making Aliyah.  I won’t let my life be dictated by what is easy or what other people want from me. This decision was difficult, but doesn’t the best always come from what is the most difficult? I know this is no syndrome…maybe more of an Israeli disease.
**Please don’t take this blog to be a posterboy type advertisment for making Aliyah, because I belive that this decision is incredibly personal. (as it easily detected by this incredibly personal blog!)**
